he rippled out at once into "Ahaha, du libra Ogostine."

Within two weeks he was closing his business (no intricate matter)
every evening, to walk home with her, through the September moonlight.
Then extraordinary things happened to the English language.

"I ain'd nefer can like no foreigner!" she often joked back to a
question of his. "Nefer, nefer! you t'ink I'm takin' up mit a
hant-orkan maan, Mister Toby?"

Whereupon he would carol out the tender taunt, "Ahaha, du libra
Ogostine!"

"Yoost a hant-orkan maan!"

"No! _No_! No oragan! I am a greata--greata merchant. Vote a
Republican! Polititshian! To-bigli, Chititzen Republican.
Naturalasize! March in a parade!"

Never lived native American prouder of his citizenship than this
adopted one. Had he not voted at the election? Was he not a member of
the great Republican party? He had eagerly joined it, for the reason
that he had been a Republican in Italy, and he had drawn with him to
the polls his second cousin, Leo Vesschi, and the five other Italians
with whom he lived. For this, he had been rewarded by Pixley, his
precinct committee-man, who allowed him to carry pink torches in three
night processions.

"You keeb oud politigs," said Bertha, earnestly, one evening. "My
uncle, Louie Gratz, he iss got a neighbour-lady; her man gone in